


A Christmas poem

by Gaia_bing



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Horror, M/M, Mild Gore, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 19:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaia_bing/pseuds/Gaia_bing
Summary: It was the night before Christmas and all through the house,Nothing dared to make a noise, not even a mouse.Because down there in the basement,Where its richest riches had an emplacement,Laid a poor trembling thief,Who was about to have his existence cut brief.





	A Christmas poem

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah...I don't know where this one came from. 
> 
> But still, Happy Holidays! :D

It was the night before Christmas and all through the house,  
Nothing dared to make a noise, not even a mouse.

Because down there in the basement,  
Where its richest riches had an emplacement,  
Laid a poor trembling thief,  
Who was about to have his existence cut brief.

He'd thought it'd be an easy and lucrative job,  
Stealing from some extremely wealthy snob,  
But as he would pretty soon learn,  
Easily done didn't necessarily mean easily earned.

As Brock Rumlow entered the Rogers estate,  
By opening its door after climbing up its gate,  
And then interiorly rejoiced as he found himself face-to-face,  
With riches and wealth that could rival any Forbes' place.

And so he took his bag out his back pocket,  
Began to make his way down the red carpet,  
That had been there the moment he'd set foot,  
Onto the floor that was now being imprinted by his boot.

Left and right he took and took,  
Looking through every cranny and nook,  
Before a strange gurgling sound,  
Made him whip his head around.

 _"Wait."_ , he thought to himself, alarmed,  
_"I thought there was no one around._  
_As it is Christmas night,_  
_And the owner of this house is supposed to be nowhere in sight."_

He stood for a breath, then two,  
Waiting for the drop of the other shoe,  
And sighed when a wave of relief,  
Calmed his previous shaking like a leaf.

But, just as he was about to continue his previous deed,  
The floor, or more precisely, the carpet, ceded.  
Right from underneath where he was standing,  
And so Brock Rumlow ended up rolling.

Rolling and rolling he went,  
Straight towards the very deep basement.  
The place where the nighttime crook is now laying,  
And all this time has been waiting.

It is morning now, that he can see,  
And maybe now is his chance to be free.  
As he hears steps coming down towards him,  
And of joyful tears his eyes are filled to the brim.

He sees a blond haired man, who he knows is the owner,  
Accompanied by a brown-haired one, a total stranger.  
He places his hands before him, as a sign of peace,  
That have no skin on them, the slippery and burning liquid making it cease.

"Please, please help me." hoarsely calls out the begging man,  
"I just wanted to accomplish my plan:  
To have a little bit of what you had,  
And get myself out of what probably is your bachelor pad."

The blond man stared at him as he went and crouched over his form,  
The other man followed him, standing above them all like an electrical storm.  
"Sorry." the blond man said, "there's nothing I can do."  
"The price for my wealth is a sacrifice that is way overdue."

"As this house gives me everything that I could ever desire,  
And in exchange I must give it something I find myself quite dire.  
And so every Christmas night I go,  
While leaving this place opened for thieves to do their show."

"But curiously this year, this basement has taken a longer time,  
Compared to other years, to roll out its enzyme.  
Because whenever I've gotten home before tonight,  
I'd never seen someone into quite this sight."

The man stood and went towards his companion, took one hand inside his own,  
Then his face turned somberly, his cover seemingly blown.  
"'See Buck? This was why I didn't want to bring you here.  
It wasn't because of some skeleton inside my closet, it is because to me you are dear.

And I didn't want to lose you, especially after Christmas night,  
I hope that you can forgive me for this grimly oversight."  
This Bucky-guy stood there, looking down at their link hands,  
Before leaning over and responding to his new boyfriend's demand:

"Of course, I forgive you, Steve. Because now I get it,  
When I first met you I thought you were some kind of twit.  
That didn't work for a single dime,  
And only enjoyed endless downtime."

"But now that I know you..." the long-haired said with a smile,  
"And know what you have to see and go through..." he added, before the two of them started to kiss for a while,  
The now almost completely disfigured Brock just stared at the two,  
As the pair loving gazed at the other and tenderly whispered "I love you."

"Hey! Long-haired boy! Why aren't you helping me!?" he cried at the now retreating pair,  
"Aren't you going to help me get out this bastard's lair?!"  
It was Bucky's turn to respond,  
As he lovingly stared at the blond:

"I'm sorry, bud, there's nothing for you I can accomplish,  
Because your life has already and is still about to diminish.  
And quite frankly, if the heart of this house is in love with me,  
Then all I can do is lets its stomach be."

And with that the lovers went on their way,  
Leaving the rest of the house to slowly absorb its prey.  
And so the lesson here is easy to learn my friend:  
Robbing the wealthy will probably mean your end.

And so this Christmas day and every other day maybe,  
Count your blessings because at least you're not about to be digested like simple gravy.

 


End file.
